


betwixt

by kuroopaisen



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: F/M, Kanda being kanda, Love Triangle, Model AU, because of course it is :'), i guess, tyki mikk being tyki mikk, we'll see how it pans out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27542779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroopaisen/pseuds/kuroopaisen
Summary: being the manager of black rose inc. is as fun as it is challenging. but things don't get really complicated until you meet tyki mikk.
Relationships: Kanda Yuu/Reader, Tyki Mikk/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuren/gifts).



> yuren, dearest, i absolutely adore you. i'm so incredibly grateful that we've met, and i think it's truly beautiful that we managed to stumble across one another. i hope you enjoy the rather indulgent journey we're about to go on with this fic, and that it gives you something of a nostalgic kick :') you deserve nothing less than the world!

“A _collaboration_?” Lavi gawps at you, his shock of red hair falling loose around his face.

“Yes,” you reiterate. “With _Millennium Models_.”

“No way,” he scoffs, shaking his head. He ambles up to your desk, placing one hand in the centre of it as if to give him an imposing air. It’s not working. “They’re assholes.”

“They don’t want _you_ , Lavi,” you smile. “There’s too many forums online about your ‘well-hidden’ distain for _Millennium Models_.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Doesn’t change the fact that I think it’s a terrible idea.”

“It could be good exposure,” Allen offers, sat on the couch with Tim curled up on his lap. Tim, a fat golden cat, snores peacefully, tail flicking occasionally. He, at least, hasn’t got a care in the world.

“We don’t _need_ exposure,” Lavi objects, throwing himself on the opposite couch. “We’ve already made a good name for ourselves.”

“But, it’s more beneficial if we can prove we’re able to work with them,” you point out. “Otherwise, the rumours they’ve been spreading about how difficult we are to work with may actually do some damage.”

Lavi sighs, sitting up straight. “How do you even _do_ a collaboration with another modelling agency?” He frowns. “I don’t get it.”

“ _Millennium Models_ were hired on to do a shoot for _Dior_ ,” you say. “Instead of delivering two of their own agents, they suggested _Dior_ hire one of ours as well.”

“That makes no sense,” Lavi grimaces.

You shrug. “It seemed better to accept the offer than to turn it down.”

“If we said no, then they’d be able to say we’re the ones being unreasonable,” Allen helpfully points out.

Lavi groans, running a hand through his hair. “I _guess_ …”

“I’m sure it’ll just be the one time,” you say. “It’s not like this is an official collaboration or anything like that.”

“How would modelling agencies even _do_ collaborations?” Allen asks, tilting his head at you.

“Exactly,” you shrug. “I’ve got no clue. We’ve just got to play along for now.”

You glance down at the laptop in front of you. The email that’d sparked this conversation stares at you, reading more like a taunt than a genuine offer of friendship. Even their logo looks threatening – two overlapping M’s that resemble a bed of spikes.

“Who do they want to work with?” Lavi asks, leaning back against the couch.

“Kanda.”

“ _Kanda_?” He gapes. “Why _Kanda_?”

“I guess he suits their image,” you shrug. “If you dressed him up as a Victorian noble, he’d probably look like one of them.”

Lavi and Allen both crack a grin at that.

“I think you should send Allen instead,” Lavi smiles. “That might go a bit more diplomatically.”

“It’ll be _fine_ ,” you chuckle, shaking your head. “I’ll go with him. Just to make sure it all goes smoothly.”

Lavi grins. “Good luck with that.”

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

Kanda raises an eyebrow at you. “They want me to feature in the new _Dior_ campaign with Tyki Mikk?”

His navy hair is pulled back off his face for once, courtesy of the makeup artists. It’s always a bit shocking to see his entire face, his striking blue eyes unobstructed by his fringe. His complexion is unfairly smooth and clear – even though you _know_ he doesn’t maintain an adequate skin care regimen, even though it’s his _job_ to look good – and his jaw is sharp as a blade.

“Yes,” you nod. “On Mr. Earl’s recommendation.”

“Huh,” Kanda murmurs. He doesn’t give anything way; if he has reservations about this, you can’t tell.

“Will you do it?” You ask, voice gentle and just a _little_ suppliant.

Kanda sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. The makeup artists flutter around him, sweeping brushes over his cheekbones, browbones, eyelids. Truth be told, barely anything needs to be done to help him look his best. It’s quite enviable, really. You’re sure he really does roll out of bed looking this good.

“If I must,” he grumbles after a long moment.

Your posture loosens up. “Thank you, Kanda.” 

“I’m just doing my job,” he mutters.

“Well, regardless,” you smile, tilting your head at him. “I’m grateful.”

He looks at you out the corner of his eyes, expression genuinely unreadable.

But you don’t have the time to try and decipher what’s going on in his head. A manager never rests, after all.

“I’ve got to go,” you nod, taking a few steps back. “I’ll see you later.”

Kanda hums in response, turning his gaze to the mirror.

You take that as your cue to leave, a slight spring in your step.

But as you begin to cross the threshold, Kanda’s voice makes you stop in your tracks.

“Will you be accompanying me?” Kanda asks.

Your heart tremors in your chest for a moment. You turn to look over your shoulder. “Uh, yeah… that’s the plan, at least.”

He’s silent for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. “Good.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s very… vintage,” you say, looking Kanda up and down. He looks a bit like a Victorian dandy, if the fashion had been designed by the mangaka of _Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure._ Somehow, Kanda makes the cluttered, heavy look work. But, you suppose, that’s just because he could pull _anything_ off.

“I hate it,” he growls.

You figure it’s got something to do with the cravat tickling his chin.

“It’s eye-catching,” you smile. That’s the point of fashion, isn’t it?

Kanda scoffs. “I’d prefer it if I had some mobility.”

You bite back a chuckle. Kanda, perhaps, is the only model you’ve met who gave a damn about the fluidity of the clothing he wore. You can’t blame him – he spent most of his youth dedicated to fencing. It’s a shame he couldn’t make a career out of it.

“It’ll be over soon,” you promise.

It’s not a lie, per se. Kanda is, perhaps, one of the easiest clients for photographers to work with. His sharp, intimidating expression is his trademark, and it really doesn’t take much for him to achieve it. All he has to do is think about Allen.

“What time is it?” Kanda grumbles, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

“It’s one forty-eight,” you say, checking the watch on your wrist.

Kanda’s expression sours.

It’s not hard to guess why. He’s been standing around in that stuffy outfit for nearly twenty minutes now. And Kanda’s not known for his patience.

“Where’s that damned Tyki Mikk?” He growls, his usually porcelain-like features beginning to crease.

“Sorry I’m late.”

A deep, velvety voice makes you flinch. You twirl around, Kanda turning his head in tow.

A vaguely familiar man stands in front of you, tall and obnoxiously handsome. Dark wavy hair frames a chiselled face from which a pair of golden-brown eyes stare at you intently.

“Shouldn’t you be on the other side of the camera?” Tyki hums, tilting his head at you.

“I’m quite happy where I am, thank you,” you nod.

“Hm…” His smirk widens. “Shame.”

The heat rises in your cheeks. Tyki, however, has moved on.

“Hm,” he hums, looking Kanda up and down. “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” 

Tyki turns on his heels and saunters off before Kanda has time to respond. You’re not sure where he’s headed, but you hope it’s towards the makeup station.

Next to you, Kanda is fuming. He’s got the same look on his face as when Lavi calls him ‘Yuu-chan.’

“Ignore him,” you murmur, leaning towards him, “he’s just trying to wind you up.”

Kanda’s still glaring in Tyki’s general direction. You wonder if he heard you.

“This outfit is ridiculous,” he finally grumbles, turning away and tilting his head upwards.

 _Oh_ , you think, _the cravat_. It’s scratching the bottom of his chin, and the fabric doesn’t look particularly forgiving.

“Here,” you chuckle, taking a step towards him.

“What are you—”

Kanda glances downwards, eyes widening slightly as he watches you.

You readjust his cravat with gentle fingers, tugging it down to sit a little lower on his neck.

“There,” you smile, brushing your hands lightly down his lapels. “All fixed.”

Kanda clears his throat, glancing away from you. “Let’s get this over with.”

It’s abrupt – but he usually is.

You sigh, folding your hands behind you.

“He better be ready,” Kanda grouses, turning on his heels and stalking towards the set.

You bite back a chuckle.

Some people might complain about Kanda’s attitude. But there’s something comforting about his relentless grumpiness. He’s always on time, and his attitude rarely deviates from what you expect.

Now, if you had to work with someone like Tyki… now that just sounds exhausting.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

The shoot goes smoother than expected.

As usual, Kanda’s the perfect client. And _Dior_ didn’t expect anything different from usual – cool, stoic, steel-like.

And the camera loves Tyki Mikk. He has a natural flair, a certain _je ne sais quoi_ that draws all eyes to him. You know that if you’d brought Lavi with you, he’d be fuming with envy.

Kanda couldn’t care less. He did he job. That’s all.

You catch his eye from his place on set, giving him a nod. He already knows it’s a go-ahead to get changed. There’s no need to debrief after this; he’s done wonderfully.

He zips across the room at an astonishing pace, a flurry of frills and heavy fabric. You smile to yourself; it’s nice to know that even Kanda’s prone to looking like a fool every now and then.

You glance at your watch.

Three PM.

You need a coffee.

“Well, well, well.”

A voice from behind you makes you jump. You twirl around to see Tyki, in all his Victorian dandy glory. The look suits him.

“Can I help you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as professional as possible.

Tyki grins. “That Kanda of yours sure has a face like ice.”

“That’s what he’s known for,” you nod.

Tyki’s tall, with sharp, clever eyes and a mouth that seems perpetually curved in a smirk. He’s handsome, of course – but there’s something untrustworthy about him. Something that makes you feel like you can’t let your guard down.

“Maybe he should diversify,” Tyki hums, rolling his shoulders. “People get tired of one-trick ponies, you know.”

“It’s working for now,” you say, giving him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “If we see a need to change things up, we will.”

Tyki chuckles, looking you up and down. “I see.”

Silence befalls you. You suddenly realise that he’s a little closer than he should be. Your cheeks flush as your pulse quickens slightly. Even professionalism crumbles under such heavy charm.

“Well, anyway,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I look forward to working with you in the future,” he smiles. There’s something off about it; like he’s a wolf assessing its prey.

“Thank you,” you nod, watching him closely.

If you’re sure of nothing else, you know that Tyki Mikk spells trouble.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

“Here you go” Lenalee says, gently placing a coffee on your desk.

“Oh, thank you, Lenalee,” you smile. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine!” She beams, waving a hand at you. “You’re always so busy doing stuff for us. The least I can do is get you a coffee.”

You try to think of a retort, but you know nothing will work. Once Lenalee’s set her mind on a mundane act of kindness, there’s no stopping her.

“How’d it go today?” She asks, tilting her head at you.

“Oh, with that model from _Millennium_?”

“Yeah!”

“Hm,” you frown, pressing your lips together. “He’s certainly… a character.”

“Oh,” she nods slowly. “That’s… interesting.”

“It is,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, this was just a one-off, right?” Lenalee tilts her head at you, encouraging smile on her face.

“I hope so,” you sigh. “It’s good to get along, but I just can’t help feeling…”

The phone rings.

You blink in surprise, glancing at your watch. Four fifty-nine in the afternoon. One minute before your office hours ‘closed.’

You pick up the phone with a bemused expression, holding it to your ear.

“Black Rose Management, how can I help you today?” You hum, the scripted greeting rolling of your tongue with ease.

“Hello again.”

You recognise that smooth, velvety voice.

“How did you get my number?” You frown.

“I just called your agency’s number,” Tyki chuckles. “It’s a stroke of fate that I ended up speaking to you.”

You’re not quite sure what to say in response. “How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to express my gratitude.” His voice is rich, dark, appealing.

“For?” You bite your lip.

“Today, of course,” he chuckles.

“We were just doing our job,” you say smoothly, not quite sure what he wants from you.

Tyki hums. The sound reverberates through the line, full of an unusually playful warmth. It tickles the back of your neck.

“Well regardless, I certainly hope I’ll be seeing more of you.” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“We’ll see,” you murmur, bemused. “Anyway, have a nice evening.”

You slam the phone on the receiver before he has time to reply.

“Everything okay?” Lenalee asks, concern touching the corner of her eyes.

You frown.

Something’s afoot. What it is, you’re not sure.

But regardless, you don’t like it.

⚘ ⚘ ⚘

White noise crackles through Tyki’s phone.

You’re gone.

He tosses the machine onto the table, watching expressionless as it skitters across the polished oaken top.

“Done,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Mr. Earl grins from the other side of the table, his glasses glinting.

The room is cool, chilled with an obnoxiously expensive air con system that bordered on extravagant. The table is almost comically long, purportedly an antique dining table from the Victorian Era. If nothing else, _Millennium Models_ really cracks down on their aesthetic.

“I still don’t understand the point of this plan,” Road hums, cupping her chin with one hand and tilting her head to the side. She’s still dressed from her interview; a short fluff piece for a rather light-hearted magazine targeted at young girls.

“Neither do I,” Tyki mumbles.

“That manager is key to keeping that place running,” Mr. Earl grins. “Should we cause strife with her, that’ll take them down from the inside.”

Tyki fights the urge to roll his eyes. Mr. Earl makes it sound so _dramatic_. Couldn’t they just replace you? Find another manager?

“But why Tyki?” Road asks, peering at the dark-haired model.

“Tyki’s our best bet,” Mr. Earl says. “That manager often accompanies the model Kanda Yuu, yes? The chances of ‘running into them’ are greater if we use him as bait.”

Tyki sighs, resting his temple against his hand. “And, what? You want me to coax her away?”

“You can distract her, at the very least,” Mr. Earl grins. “Cause one cog in the machine to rust, and the whole thing breaks down.”

Tyki raises an eyebrow. He’s not so sure that logic is sound, but he doesn’t question it. He’s been promised quite the pay rise, should he manage to pull this off.

He thinks it’s a waste of time.

But how hard can charming one woman really be?


End file.
